CHAPTER 99: CHAPTER 98. BETWEEN TIME

Vivianne’s mind

"Why are the other alphas still reacting to your heat? I claimed you! I marked you!" Dietrich’s voice thundered through her ears, sharp and venomous, like the cracking of a whip.

The sound tore through her chest, vibrating through her bones until it felt like her heart itself was trembling. Vivianne blinked hard, her vision spinning as she heard those words, she had heard them before.

It was the same voice, the same fury that once haunted her first life.

The memory flooded in like a violent tide. She remembered the cold floor beneath her knees, the scent of burnt incense and blood, and the way Dietrich’s hand had gripped her arm hard enough to bruise as he shouted those same words.

His insecurity had twisted into cruelty, and his pride as an alpha had shattered the moment he realized he couldn’t properly mark her. He had failed to bind her the way the alpha claimed their omega.

And because of that failure, he threw her away. He threw her to another alpha, treating her as if she were a broken possession instead of a person. Those were his words whenever she was in heat, and Dietrich was so frustrated with his inability to claim her properly.

Now, as the echo of his voice filled her mind again, Vivianne’s stomach churned. The scent of his pheromones pressed around her like smoke, bitter, sharp, and suffocating. It smelled of rage, jealousy, and desperation. It burned her nose and made her chest feel heavy.

She grimaced, her body trembling. "Was his pheromone always this bad?" she thought, her heart pounding against her ribs.

Never had she thought that way before, when she was his wife in her first life, the way it clung to her skin like poison. Now it only filled her with disgust, a stark contrast to the warmth and comfort she’d grown used to from Roxanne’s scent, a scent of fresh pine after rain she loved so much.

The darkness in her vision thickened, and her breath hitched as confusion and fear clawed at her chest. Everything around her felt unsteady. "Was she dreaming? Was this some cruel trick of her exhausted mind?"

"Did everything... was everything just a dream?" she thought, and then she started to cry.

Her voice cracked as she whispered, "Roxanne...?"

No one answered.

"And our baby?" Her lips quivered, and her voice trembled into silence as she held her stomach tightly.

Vivianne bit her lower lip until it bled, tasting iron, desperate to feel something real. The pain grounded her, barely, but the tears that followed were silent and endless, falling down her cheeks as she clung to the fading memory of warmth, of safety, of the woman who loved her enough to burn the world.

Vivianne could feel it, the rough grip of his hand, the same hand that had once bruised her arm and stripped her of every last shred of dignity. His fingers dug into her skin, dragging her closer as his voice rang in her ears like the tolling of a death bell.

"I’ve got the marquis’ son and his friends to play with you!" Dietrich sneered, his words thick with madness and greed. "The marquis will give me their gold mines if her son can spend the night with you."

The world around her twisted into the cold walls of that gilded prison, the imperial bedchamber she had once called home. The scent of incense, wine, and blood filled her nose again. She saw the glimmer of chains in the candlelight, the heavy curtains that muffled her screams. Her heart pounded in her chest until it hurt.

"No!" she screamed, shaking her head, tears spilling down her face. "You’re not real! You’re dead! You’re gone! I’d rather die than let another alpha touch me again!"

Her voice cracked into a sob, her throat raw. The air around her shimmered with the remnants of Chronos’s power, memories overlapping, reality bending, but she could still hear him and could still feel him.

"At least you’ll be useful!" Dietrich’s voice grew louder, warped with rage. "You can’t die! You’re the Empress! Your life is mine!"

Vivianne clutched her head, shaking violently. "No! No, you don’t own me!" She cried, her voice trembling with both fury and terror.

The heat of her tears blurred her vision, and the echo of his pheromones burned her throat. She could almost feel his breath against her ear, that suffocating sense of control.

Her entire body was trembling now, her pulse erratic. "No! Roxanne!" she screamed into the darkness, reaching for a warmth that isn’t there. "Roxanne, help me!"

The darkness didn’t answer.

"Vivianne," his voice hissed, closer now, possessive and venomous. "You’re mine. Not hers."

"No," she whispered, voice breaking. "No, I’m not."

"You are my empress!" Dietrich roared, his words echoing through her skull, twisting with the shadows that pressed against her heart.

Vivianne screamed again, her voice shattering through the void, raw, broken, and desperate. The sound of it seemed to tear the world in two. And somewhere deep within the storm of her fear, a faint golden light flickered—Roxanne’s warmth, calling her back.

She then gasped as that faint golden light flickered again—soft, steady, and warm like sunlight breaking through a storm. It pulsed in rhythm with her heartbeat, cutting through the blackness of Dietrich’s voice. She turned toward it, trembling, every step in that endless void heavy with the weight of pain and memory.

The air around her began to change. The scent of blood and smoke faded, replaced by something familiar, lavender, rose, and pine after rain. It’s her scent, the one Roxanne always surrounded her with. The cold void cracked, light spilling through it like water through broken glass.

She walked faster, clutching her chest as the echo of Dietrich’s voice grew faint. "You can’t—"

"I already did," she whispered, and the shadows dissolved completely.

Vivianne opened her eyes and found herself surrounded by dim, golden light. The first thing she saw was Roxanne’s face, pale and desperate, streaked with tears. Her arms were wrapped tightly around her, her body trembling as if she had been crying for hours.

"Vivianne?" Roxanne’s voice cracked, rough with exhaustion and grief. "Wife, my Vivianne, please, look at me."

Vivianne blinked slowly, her lashes heavy, her lips parting as she took a shaky breath. The air is cool against her skin, and her body aches, but the moment she saw Roxanne’s eyes, those fierce, red eyes, everything came rushing back.

"Roxanne..." she whispered, her voice barely there. "My wife, my alpha."

Roxanne let out a sound that’s half a sob and half a laugh. She pulled Vivianne closer, pressing her forehead against hers. "You’re awake," she breathed, her voice breaking. "God, you’re awake. I thought—I thought I lost you."

Vivianne’s fingers, weak and trembling, brushed against Roxanne’s cheek. "You didn’t," she murmured, her eyes glistening. "You called me back."

"I couldn’t lose you," Roxanne said, her voice shaking as tears fell freely now. "Not after everything. Not after all we’ve fought for. You scared me more than any battle, wife."

Vivianne smiled faintly, though her lips were pale. "I saw him again," she whispered. "He tried to pull me back... but your light found me."

Roxanne’s arms tightened protectively around her. "He’s gone. You’re safe now," she said firmly, her voice trembling but sure. "I’ll never let anyone hurt you again."

"This is real? Is this more than just a dream? Are you real? Am I still your omega?" Vivianne let out a shaky breath, resting her head against Roxanne’s shoulder, her tears mixing with hers.

Roxanne’s hand moved to the back of Vivianne’s head, fingers trembling as they sank into her hair. "Yes," she whispered fiercely, pressing a kiss to her temple. "This is real. I’m here. You’re here. You came back to me."

Vivianne’s breath hitched, her lips quivering as she clung tighter to Roxanne’s uniform, afraid that if she let go, everything would fade again. "You’re warm..." she murmured, almost in disbelief. "Your scent—it’s really you. Not that nightmare, not that... cage."

Roxanne nodded, her voice breaking as she spoke. "You’re not in that place anymore, my love. You’re safe. You’re mine." She cupped Vivianne’s face, forcing her to meet her gaze. "You will always be my omega."

Vivianne’s eyes widened, shimmering with tears that slipped down her cheeks. "I heard his voice, I thought I’d lost everything again. Our baby... you..." Her voice cracked, and she choked on a sob.

"Shh." Roxanne’s thumb brushed the tears from her face, her own eyes were wet. "You came back to me and to our child. That’s all that matters."

Vivianne let out a trembling breath, her heart pounding. "Then... hold me again," she whispered. "So I know this isn’t just another dream."

Roxanne didn’t answer with words, she only pulled her closer, wrapping her completely in her arms until Vivianne could feel her heartbeat thundering beneath her chest. "Feel that?" Roxanne murmured against her ear. "That’s real. That’s me. You’re home, Vivianne."

The faint scent of roses and iron filled the air, grounding Vivianne further into the present. Her breathing slowed, and her trembling eased as warmth began to spread through her body. "Home..." she whispered softly, her eyes fluttering shut as she leaned fully into Roxanne’s embrace.

The midwife bowed her head low, hands trembling slightly as she kept her voice calm. "She’s just asleep, Your Grace," she reassured quickly, before Roxanne’s panic could spiral. "Her pulse is steady, her breathing is strong. The light around her is only the remnants of the spirit’s blessing—she needs rest, nothing more. Please, let her sleep. And you should rest too, Your Grace. Sleep beside your wife. The baby is safe."

Roxanne’s breath hitched, her grip on Vivianne’s hand tightening before she slowly loosened it. Her shoulders shook, exhaustion pressing against her from every direction. "Okay," she murmured, her voice barely a whisper. "Okay... I’ll stay with her."

The midwife smiled softly, setting a warm cloth by Vivianne’s side. "That’s good, Your Grace. She’ll need your warmth when she wakes."

Outside, the gentle murmur of soldiers, servants, and everything faded into the background. One by one, people slipped out of the tent, leaving only calm silence behind.

Roxanne shifted closer, resting herself on the bedding beside Vivianne. She brushed a stray lock of hair from Vivianne’s face, tracing the faint gold shimmer left on her cheek from the lingering spirit energy.

"You’re safe now. I’ll protect you while you rest. You, and our child." Roxanne sighed deeply, pressing her forehead against hers.

The tent felt heavy and warm, wrapped in the faint hum of Luthen’s barrier outside. The flicker of the lantern danced across the canvas, painting gold and amber shadows on their faces. Roxanne’s eyes grew heavier, her body finally giving in to the exhaustion she’d been holding at bay for days. Her fingers never left Vivianne’s hand.

And before long, the world faded into silence, her head resting beside Vivianne’s, the rhythm of their breathing falling into the same slow, steady pace, until the blackness claimed her too.